11. The Trainee Who Refuses to Debut (2)

"Wait, you already met and got introduced?"

Han Seongwoo tossed the words out lightly, but the wariness underneath was sharp — sharp enough to draw the other trainees' eyes onto me and Sparkles. The mood, flat a second ago, suddenly took on a strange charge — like there was something to it — and Sparkles openly panicked and shook his head.

"No. It's not like that…"

"We ran into each other in front of the bathroom. Bumped into him by accident and he was so good-looking I asked one of the staff about him."

"…Ah, yeah?"

I cut off Han Seongwoo's subtly barbed line with something innocuous, and the mood snapped back to normal at once. Sparkles, who'd been floundering, laughed awkwardly and rolled with it. Everyone was smiling, but somehow it felt like a thorned ball was rolling around in the air.

"Alright, sounds like everyone's done with intros. Let's take a real break now — everyone's tired, right?"

Han Seongwoo, still wearing his kind class-rep face, patted my shoulder and stood up. The practice room went scattered in an instant. The only ones still sitting in that awkward space were me and Sparkles. And I was the one who caught him just as he was quietly getting up to slip away.

"That bathroom, though… where was it? We just bumped into each other but I can't remember."

Straight-up lie. Nowhere near where we'd bumped into each other looked anything like a bathroom.

"Ah, might feel far because it's a bit… um, out the corridor and take a left…"

"First day here, guess that's why — the layout's confusing, I can't tell. Lot of people probably get lost."

I gave a helpless shrug and Sparkles's eyes rolled around in a full circle.

Out the door and take a right, right? I echoed innocently, and Sparkles — lips barely moving — finally bit.

"U-uh, I'll — I'll show you!"

"Whoa, you don't have to. Thanks."

The moment we stepped out of the practice room, I turned smoothly to the left, and Sparkles's eyes had another minor earthquake — but whatever.

Well? Are you a bomb, or a lifeline?

---

"Eunchan."

In the mirror, Eunchan watched Hajin walk out of the practice room with Haru, and then heard the familiar voice calling him. Instead of answering, he averted his eyes and pretended to be in the middle of an urgent stretch.

But Eunchan-ah, Ju Eunchan. When his name got called a second time in that same friendly tone, he couldn't keep pretending not to hear.

Eunchan rubbed the back of his stiff neck and answered.

"…Yes, Seongwoo-hyung."

"It's been bugging me — that thing I said earlier. You know I didn't mean anything bad, right?"

"Ah… yeah."

Seongwoo could feel a few trainees' eyes drifting their way, and deliberately clapped Eunchan's shoulder with a bigger, showier motion. That's why it's better to be on time, huh — with legs that long! His cheerful voice filled the practice room.

"Everyone's working hard and it's not okay if the mood keeps getting thrown off just because of you. I trust you get what I mean."

"Yes, hyung… I'm sorry."

"No, no, just don't do it next time. Get to practice. You were warming up? I'll spot you."

Even after the conversation ended, Seongwoo didn't leave — he planted himself right in front of Eunchan, and Eunchan let out a small sigh. His eyes kept drifting back toward the practice room door Haru and Hajin had gone through.

"Eunchan. Focus. What did I say happens when you skimp on warmups? You can't blow off the fundamentals like this."

"…Yes, sorry."

Suffocating.

That was the word Eunchan swallowed without letting out.

---

Dan Haru was a little on edge. For one thing, he tended to be shy around strangers, and this new trainee-hyung who'd just shown up today had the same kind of scary look as Eunchan, which made it worse.

Maybe because their first meeting had gone a bit sideways? Something still felt off, so he'd followed along — but there was no way he could unload everything on someone he'd just met, and it put him in a bind.

"You said your name was Haru? Where do you live?"

"Sorry? Ah, I live in Seoul…"

"Your family's in Seoul?"

"No, I live at the dorm…"

"Wow, really? Living away from home so young can't be easy. That's impressive. Where's home originally?"

"Home's out in the province, but my parents are overseas."

"Wait, so you're in Korea alone?"

"No, with my grandma…"

"Ah. Got it."

Awkward… was he?

'How am I giving this hyung my whole life story?'

He'd just been answering questions as they came, but by the time he snapped out of it, he'd dutifully briefed this hyung he'd only met today (and had been on high alert around) on the fact that he was the youngest trainee, that trainee life wasn't hard, but that sometimes he wanted to go back home and put away a huge plate of his grandma's braised galbi.

He'd assumed from the intimidating face that this hyung would have the same kind of personality as Eunchan, but Hajin treated him as easily as if they'd known each other for ten years. His skill at throwing in question after question and keeping the conversation from stalling put a rec-camp instructor to shame.

In the short walk from the practice room to the bathroom, Haru had agreed to let Hajin talk to him casually and to call him hyung — he'd even called him Hajin-hyung a few times! Compared to spending about a month calling his fellow trainee — and just one year older — Eunchan "hey you," the speed difference was astonishing.

'Wh-what's with this social skill.'

By this point every possible thought was racing through Haru's head. Ever since they'd stepped out of the practice room, there'd actually been a question stuck in his throat. Haru agonized. Should he just come clean? Ask him not to mention what he'd seen earlier to the other hyungs? But if he asked why, what should he say? Was it even okay to just dump this kind of thing on a hyung he'd met for the first time today?

And Hajin, watching that internal debate play out in real time, thought:

'Man, this kid is transparent.'

Every thought he had wrote itself onto his face — the type who'd have a rough time on variety shows once he debuted. Perfect timing and opening to spit out whatever was on his mind, and here he was, still hesitating. Cautious type, maybe — whatever it was, if he wasn't going to speak first, I just had to beat him to it.

"That earlier thing bugging you?"

"Huh?"

"No? Just felt like you'd rather I didn't tell the others about our run-in earlier."

Going in on the warm, understanding-hyung angle, I opened with an easy smile and an "I get it" tone, and this straight-shooting Sparkles jumped again.

Those unusually huge eyes filled up with a million exclamation and question marks that read, 'What is this hyung?' It's all written on your face, kid.

"I don't know the details, but I'll pretend I didn't see anything back there."

"Ah, th-thank you."

Sparkles bowed his head, still startled, and didn't look like he was going to say anything more. I hadn't planned on digging into everything on day one anyway.

Laying some bait today was enough.

"Still, glad I asked. Would've been rough if I'd said something in there without thinking."

"No, it's not that serious… just a little embarrassing to have been crying…"

"What's so bad about crying? I used to cry all the time back at my old company."

"You were a trainee? At another company?"

"…Yeah, just briefly."

I shrugged with a laugh, and I could see the guardedness that had held Sparkles stiff whittling down bit by bit. Watching Sparkles slowly loosen up — like drooping rabbit ears perking back up — I saved one last shot for right before we went into the practice room.

"If you ever have something you can't talk about anywhere else, tell me you want to hit the vending machine. I'll buy you a can of something."

Tossed in like an afterthought.

"I've got a little brother, y'know. Honestly… seeing you earlier made me think of him, and it kind of got to me."

I'd just sold out Kang Hawon — one year younger, currently probably at home playing games — in a single line, but Hawon had no way of knowing, so it was fine.

"Ah, is that too much? Just seemed like something you can't talk about with the kids in there."

"…Hyung,"

"Hm?"

"Hyung, you really seem like a grown-up."

Yeah, well. I'm living my 29+α years, after all.

I patted the shoulder of Sparkles — who was watching me half-spellbound — with zero traces of guilt on my face. If Hawon had seen me like this, he'd have gone stone-faced and shaken his head, but Hawon had no way of seeing this either, so no harm done.

'Bite the bait, little lamb.'

Wasn't it fish that bit bait? Not that I cared.

---

The trainees at Miro took five kinds of classes: vocal, dance, rap, acting, and physical.

Each class was split into levels; mine were, in order, high, mid, high, low, and mid. Acting being low was probably down to this whole Mental Care thing.

'Seems like emotional stuff dulls a bit while the Care system's running.'

That was going to be a problem. Set aside for now — I'd figure it out with the System at some point.

F-figure what out?

Anyway, right now it was dance class. My case was apparently 'awkward.' My baseline skill was solid enough that I didn't need the fundamentals track, but not quite enough to keep up with advanced choreography — and the fact that I couldn't seem to shake that 'in-between' tier was starting to piss me off.

I was going to rip that 'mid' label right off.

"Alright, that's it for today. Good work."

After running the same step routines about 300 times, even ordinary walking felt like my ankles were about to buckle on every step, like they were still counting choreo.

'Not even the energy to go grab water.'

Torn between hydration and recovery, I opted to just lie down, exhaling as I looked around the practice room. The faces I'd seen on day one were mostly paired off, stretching or chatting.

Only two were missing.

'Ju Eunchan and Dan Haru.'

Those two again.

I'd been in class about two weeks now, and in that time those two had, again and again, cited one reason or another and either skipped practice or been called off somewhere.

'And every time it happens, the one whose reaction is the most tense — is over there.'

"Guys, break time or not, we should at least tidy this stuff up."

Han Seongwoo, who'd stayed to talk with the dance trainer even after class ended, shook out his sweat-damp hair and called out in a voice edged with irritation. Everyone put one thing away and then rest. His voice was heavy with pressed-down annoyance, and the guys sprawled around the room read the room and pulled themselves up.

'It's not like it has to be cleaned up right this second.'

Still, with everyone up, I couldn't be the only one sitting there doing nothing. I was getting up to grab something to put away when I noticed Han Seongwoo heading my way. What? Why?

"Hajin, you rest. Keeping up with practice must be tough enough."

"…Nah, we should all clean up."

"It's fine. If you touch expensive gear you're not familiar with and mess it up, that's more of a headache."

Was this a jab?

But if I said "yes, sure" and just plopped down, I could already picture the sharpness that'd hit me from every other pair of eyes in the room.

Not knowing where this vague hostility was coming from, I stole a glance at him. Han Seongwoo, face unchanged, stood next to me. Then, with a slight smile, quickly scanning me.

"Tough getting used to, huh? Skipping the fundamentals and jumping straight into applied — that's rough."

"Yeah, stamina's a bit lacking. Guess so."

"It's not something that comes together in a day or two, so don't push too hard. Beginners at your level always struggle at first."

At this point it was hard to miss that this was a power play. There'd been something off about the vibe from day one. Han Seongwoo — apparently not just the nice class rep after all — slid his hand into his pocket and was about to drape an arm over my shoulder when—

Thump thump.

"What was that?"

The practice room door — closed all this time — swung noisily open. Even without looking I knew it was Ju Eunchan and Dan Haru, so I honestly wasn't looking, but those noisy footfalls came straight for me.

"Hyung!"

At the almost dramatic call, I turned my head, dazed, and there was Dan Haru — ears bright red, breathing hard — staring at me. Huh? Sparkles is pissed?

"Me?"

I asked if he was calling me, and he nodded with a look of pure resolve. He'd said it so loud that not just Han Seongwoo next to me but the other trainees all turned to look.

Hey now — this was—

"Haru, what's up? Something to say?"

"……"

"……?"

"Vending machine…"

"Huh? What?"

"Let's go to the vending machine!"

"…Huh?"

That stuff'll kill you, kid.

The comeback I couldn't quite let out echoed against the roof of my mouth.